Of Love and Adventure
by ALaFolle
Summary: Love, adventure, firewhiskey, broomsticks, and insanity. Fred is on a mission to prove to Hermione that love exists...but will she go for the bait? Its time for her to choose as the War comes to an end.
1. Of the Beginning

**_Hello everyone! This is my very first fanfic, so go easy on me :]  
>I'd really appreciate reviews, just to see what everyone thinks about it.<br>The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update!  
>Enjoy, dears~<em>**

**Of the Beginning**

"Oi!" Fred massaged the back of his head where the rolled up newspaper had hit him, "What was that for?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Molly Weasley bustled around the kitchen, making sure that everyone's breakfast was in front of them and adding on helpings of scrambled eggs any time someone's plate began looking empty.

"Not his fault Hermione got the best of him…again," Ron smirked at Hermione, sitting at his right. She beamed at his compliment and looked back at Fred to finish their conversation.

"Thank you, Ronald. And so you see, Fred, it would be nearly impossible for a love potion to really work. Love doesn't exist, it's merely a fairytale created for young girls to swoon after their entire lives. It's as though they always have to be damsel's in distress, while the men are their knights in shining armour. Why is it so impossible for a woman to be a knight? Love isn't real. Infatuation created by hormones and chemicals…yes, it exists. But love…don't waste your time trying to create something that will never work," she tossed a strand of long, brown hair over her shoulder and sat staring down at her plate. Suddenly, she wasn't very hungry any more.

She looked back up at Fred who was slowly shaking his head, "Love exists, 'Mione, I promise. I just wish you would realize it." He then turned to George and jumped in on the neighboring conversation about Quidditch and which team would win this year's Cup.

Hermione, in that moment, felt empty…almost lonely, though she was in a room full of her friends. She could tell Ron was looking at her with a worried expression on his face, but she didn't bother to look back at him and let him know she was okay. She wasn't okay. When he touched her hand, she pulled away, an apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry, Ron…I'm alright, I promise. I'm just feeling a little sick today…I think I'm going to go upstairs and take another nap or something," she kissed him on the cheek, ignoring his blush and his garbled "sweet dreams, feel better". She nodded at Harry, who knew her better, who knew what she was really sick from, who would follow her upstairs and comfort her. But it wasn't his comfort she wanted.

* * *

><p>There was a light knock at her door, and Hermione, surprised, quickly called in a hushed whisper, "Come in"<p>

She was in bed, reading an old tomb because she couldn't sleep. Her overworked brain just needed peace and quiet, but it wouldn't let her be. It was him. He was the one who consumed her thoughts every second of every day. He was the one she thought about every night before she went to bed, sometimes cried over because she knew that he would never look her way.

Harry stepped through the door and quietly shut it behind him. It was 3 in the morning, and Hermione was surprised he wasn't with Ginny, since they had recently started spending their nights together. "Hey, 'Mione," he kicked off his shoes and sat on across from her on her bed.

"Hey, Harry," she whispered with a small smile. She was always grateful for him, whenever he caught her feeling sad or lonely, "Why aren't you with Ginny?"

"She saw you looking all weird this morning," he took the book from her hands and set it on the ground, "She was worried about you, too. I'm pretty sure she knows, 'Mione, but I promise I didn't tell." He looked at her with worried eyes, and Hermione believed that he would never tell her secret. She trusted Harry with her life, he was her very best friend.

"I know you wouldn't tell, Harry. And besides, it really isn't that big of a deal," she laughed lightly, "It's just a school-girl crush, I'm sure it'll pass soon enough." She scooted closer to the wall and patted the open space next to her, which Harry quickly occupied. He slung his arm over her shoulder and she leaned into him, treasuring the warmth and the comfort.

"Hermione, you've liked him for so long. I know you've tried dating those other guys…Krum and McLaggen and even Seamus…" he smirked, remembering the awkward two months the couple had spent together in their 5th year, "but it never worked. You never got over him. And it hurts me to see you like this…you need to just tell him, already. I don't know a single guy who wouldn't go for you."

She snorted, not believing him for a second, "I appreciate it, but you don't have to lie to me, Harry. I know I'm not exactly the hottest piece of ass at school," she rolled her eyes.

Harry cringed, "Why do you always have to be so crude? You're not hot, you're beautiful, alright? And you're brilliant, and funny, and exciting…you're brave. Seriously, you're amazing and it still shocks me to know that you don't see it the way I do. It breaks my heart," he squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

They had always had this sort of relationship, easy as breathing. Though many people had thought they were meant to be, Harry and Hermione had never felt anything but friendship toward each other. They were always there for one another, no matter the situation. Hermione laughed to herself, thinking of what was to come, and how pathetic this particular problem was. She shook away her dark thoughts and focused on a lighter subject, "I still find it hilarious how much of a prude you are, Harry," she smirked up at him.

"And I still find it odd how lewd you are, love," he chuckled. He knew that mostly everyone thought that Granger was the prude in the trio, but it really was him. Hermione was actually quite open about things if people asked about them.

"There's nothing to hide, Potter," she smiled, "Hormones are natural, they should be embraced."

"Disgusting girl," Harry poked her side, making her giggle and push him away. He laughed and hugged her tighter, letting her try to fight her way out of his grip. "Not getting away from me, Granger, I love you too much."  
>"Stupid. Half-blood. Cocky. Seeker." She accentuated every word with a push at him, laughing too hard to really fight back at him. He eventually loosened his arms to let her breathe, laughing right along with her.<p>

"Oh, 'Mione, things are going to get better, I promise," he smiled and stood up, putting his shoes on again and starting to tiptoe out of her room, "You gotta tell him, though."

And as Harry left the room, Hermione found herself thinking that Harry knew something that she didn't.


	2. Of the Plan

**_Hello everyone! This is my very first fanfic, so go easy on me :]  
>I'd really appreciate reviews, just to see what everyone thinks about it.<br>The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update!  
>Enjoy, dears~<em>**

**Of the Plan**

Fred lay awake in his bed, thinking about a certain bushy-haired muggleborn. He was remembering his 5th year at Hogwarts, a certain night that had changed everything. Hermione had always been his little brother's best friend, a cute girl with a kind heart. Since he had met her, there had always been a soft spot in his heart reserved only for her. He opened doors for her, pulled out chairs for her to sit on, practically worshipped the ground she walked on, to be quite honest. Ever since he could remember, he'd had a crush on Hermione Granger. But she had never looked at him twice, always choosing Ron over him.

But then, during the winter of his 5th year, he really fell for the girl with the doe-eyes and brilliant mind…

* * *

><p>"Oi! Georgie, wait up!" he sprinted after his twin, laughing as he did so. George had gotten overly excited about some new Christmas prank and had sped off without a backward glance. Fred quickened his pace, not realizing how fast exactly his brother was until just now. He was about to turn a corner when he crashed into something and toppled over onto something soft…more so <em>someone<em> soft.

"Sorry! So sorry!" he jumped up quickly, and looked downS at whoever it was that he had pushed over. There were books scattered all over the floor, and a bushy-haired girl struggling to untangle herself from her book bag and her too-big robes. He laughed quietly to himself and bent down to help her out.

"Fred, don't laugh! That actually hurt!" she chastised him once she got hold of her bearings and stood up. He should have said sorry once more, but he couldn't help but look at those big, brown eyes and her smooth, pale skin. There were light freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks and her hair looked silky soft.

"Fred?" she looked up at him, her kind eyes questioning him, confused at why he wasn't talking to her.

"Sorry," he choked out, his heart in his throat. She had him tongue-tied once more, something that never happened around anyone else. "Here, let me help you with those books," he bent down to grab the books and also to hide his blushing face. He was sure she had caught him, knew what he had been thinking. She was so smart, he couldn't help but feel inferior to her.

As he reached for one of the further books, he hit an invisible force and his hand bounced back at him, "Ow! Wha-…" he pressed his hand at the force field again, but couldn't get through.

"What happened?" Hermione walked over towards him and also tried to push on the barrier, but it wouldn't budge.

"What is this?" Fred wondered, knowing that Hermione would know the answer. But he was wrong, she just shrugged her shoulders and scrunched up her nose, thinking.

"I have no idea…unless…oh!" she gasped, eyes popping open, looking for something on the ceiling. Fred followed her gaze, and took a quick inhale as he realized what exactly had happened.

"Magic mistletoe…"he whispered, now too frightened and embarrassed to look back down at Hermione. He could feel his face flush again as he remembered what he had been thinking about only second ago. About touching her face, kissing her, holding her hand…

He shook himself, trying to keep his cool.

"Uhm…Fred?" Hermione's voice was quiet, nervous, something he had never heard before. He whipped his head around to look at her, worried that something had gone wrong. But she was just standing there with her arms wrapped around herself, looking embarrassed and blushing like no other. He'd never seen anything more adorable, and he loosened up. He beamed at her, trying to make her feel more at ease, "Yes, Hermione?"

"I know that we have to kiss before we can get out of this, because that's how the magic mistletoe works…but…oh, never mind, you'll laugh at me!" she turned away from him and buried her head in her hands. He was confused, why would he ever laugh at her?

"What is it, 'Mione? I promise I won't laugh…c'mon! I promise! Are you alright?" he scooted closer to her, putting his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She shook her head, emitting a bitter laugh.

"Well, I've never kissed anyone before, Fred. It's alright, you can laugh, I guess it's not that big of a deal," she gave him a half-smile, prepared for his tirade of teases. But while he smiled, he didn't even chuckle. He was surprised to find himself furiously happy that no one else had kissed her, that he got to be the first one.

"Naw, Hermione, it's fine! Kissing isn't hard, it's fun!" he smiled at her until she thawed out, became comfortable again. "And besides, I'm not expecting a full snog from you, one little peck and we'll both be on our merry way!"

He could feel his heart speed up, even a peck from Hermione Granger would make his entire holiday better.

"Well…alright, then, let's get this over with," Hermione looked up at him with curiosity in her eyes, and something else that Fred couldn't quite place. He was good at reading people, and could usually tell what she was thinking…but this was something different. He quickly shooed those thoughts away for a better time.

He stepped closer to her, bending his head down to her level.

"Alright, 'Mione?" his low smirk in her ear made her shiver, and he delighted in her response. He moved closer to her lips and leaned in to find them. She was the one who closed the distance, kissing him lightly. But that light kiss burned him, fireworks going off in every part of his body. His nerves tingled, sending lightning down his entire form, surprising him with the intensity of his emotion. He put his hand on her cheek and his fingertips stung where he touched her smooth skin. And though the kiss lasted a split second, his entire world changed. When they pulled back from each other, he was looking at her in a new light.

He didn't just have a soft spot, a crush, on Hermione Granger. He loved her. He loved her with every part of his mind and soul, and he resolved to make himself her perfect match. She was blushing because he was looking at her so intensely, so he smiled at her, pretending to be his normal self.

"Well, alright then! I'll be on my way, unless you need any more of my snogging expertise?" he waggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle as she smacked his arm.

"Fred! Stop!" she grabbed her books again and started walking in the direction of their dormitory, "I'll see you tonight for our study session, yeah?" she turned around to look at him.

"Yeah, Granger, see you tonight," he smiled and ran after George once more, still wondering at what he had seen in her eyes and with the feel of her skin still burning at his fingertips…

* * *

><p>"Georgie? You awake?" Fred looked over at George's bed, and the mass of blankets that indicated George's sleeping form on the mattress.<p>

"Sort of," came the garbled, half-asleep response.

Fred shifted onto his back, looking back up at the dark ceiling, "Why can't I get over her George? Why her?"

"Cause she's brilliant, Freddie, that's why. Now go to bed, you poof," George grumbled, turning onto his other side so he wouldn't have to listen to another one of Fred's rants about Hermione.

"Sorry, mate…I really am. But things are gonna change this summer…I swear," Fred smiled up at the warm darkness. "I'm going to make her believe in love, Georgie…I'm going to let her see the light."


	3. Of Broomsticks and Firewhiskey

Of Broomsticks and Firewhiskey

Hermione woke up feeling giddy, she had a plan and now that she had her mind set, there was no way she wasn't going to follow through with it. She jumped out of bed and threw open the curtains, letting the sunshine stream into her bright room. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror. She fixed her hair and brushed her teeth and bounded down the stairs to grab some breakfast before setting out towards town.

"Gooooood morning everyone!" she beamed at the Weasley's who were already sitting at the breakfast table, grabbing a seat next to Ron, who looked at her as if she had gone mad. Well, maybe she had, but she didn't quite care any longer.

"Good morning, dear," Molly Weasley gave her a warm smile and turned back to the stove, "How many pancakes would you like this morning? Or maybe a muffin? I've got toast heating up, and I have butter in the fridge, if you'd like a bread/butter sandwich."

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione chirped, stealing a piece of toast from Ron's plate, "I'm not that hungry. Harry and I are going in to town to phone my parents today, so we might grab some coffee along the way." She smiled at Ron, who looked perfectly confused and a bit hurt, but she didn't have time to explain anything to him. She quickly whispered in his ear, "Confidential, I'll tell you once we get back. Just keep the family busy today, alright?"

He firmly nodded, and Hermione was glad he didn't ask any questions. He turned towards his mother and started asking her about the pancakes she was making, which gave Hermione time to slip away and out the door. Harry was already waiting for her outside the gate, and so she handed him the piece of toast she had taken from Ron's plate.

"Ohhhh yes," he bit into it gratefully, "I was starving. Thanks, 'Mione."

"No problem," she laughed and shook her head, "I know how boys get about their food." She grabbed Harry's hand and started skipping to the Apparation point, thinking that she couldn't even remember a time that she had been this happy.

* * *

><p>Fred mouth dropped wide as Hermione gracefully skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was smiling, happier than he had seen her in a very long time. She looked fresh, awake, and she took his breath away. She was wearing her dark blue jumper, which was Fred's favorite. It made her skin look like ivory, her lips redder, and her hair shone like liquid chocolate. He'd never admit that he'd thought of her like that, but he felt safe within his own mind to think like a poet.<p>

As soon as he saw her like that, he knew that today would be the day. He was going to start a bet with Hermione Granger, one that she couldn't possibly resist. For him, it was a win-win situation. If she fell for him, then he would be the happiest man in the world. If she didn't, he would finally feel himself free to move on. But he had a feeling that he would succeed, that Hermione would love him as strongly as he loved her.

There was a reason that Fred secretly studied into the wee hours of the night, so that he could be on Hermione's level and be able to have intelligent conversations with her. There was a reason he so meticulously created his potions and jokes, so that she would see that he had potential. There was a reason to why he did all of the things he did…it was her. Hermione. That night so long ago, he had promised himself that he would be her perfect match, her true love. And he was ready now, to tell her and to make her happy.

"Fred…don't," George whispered into Fred's ear, "It's not the right time. You know they're leaving after Bill's wedding. You don't have enough time…she might die out there. Do you really want to be in that sort of situation?"

Fred glared at his twin, cursing the world for the unfortunate position they were all in. But he didn't care. Because that meant that no matter what, now was the time, it was his last chance. It was now or never.

"It doesn't matter what you say, George. I'm telling her."

* * *

><p>Once they had Apparated into the nearby town, Hermione drew out Harry's invisibility cloak and threw it over him. "I brought it just in case…it's better that you start using it now," she whispered under her breath. She ignored his protests and set to make herself unrecognizable.<p>

Her long brown hair because short, straight and blonde. Her lips became thinner, and her eyes smaller and closer together. She pulled out new clothes from her rucksack and changed in a nearby pub. Once she came out, she wouldn't even have recognized herself.

"Alright there, Harry?" she smiled brightly to thin air. The only response she got was a tap on her shoulder, letting her know that Harry was indeed there and ready to move.

They walked through alleys and main streets, heading closer and closer to the shady center of town. Hermione didn't quite know who they were looking for, but figured she would know when she found him. And she was right.

He was wearing a long, black trench coat and black gloves. He sat on a Dumpster as he read his newspaper…except the pictures on the newspaper were moving. Hermione stepped up closer to him and coughed. He coughed twice and put down his newspaper, jumping off of the Dumpster. He smirked and wandered towards Hermione, taking his time. He had the look of one who ruled the world, one with no worries and no fear. And fearlessness was something that Hermione was after today.

He stepped up closer, "Well, Granger, have you got the money?" his voice was deep and gravelly. Hermione's heart sped up, she was having second thoughts about this transaction. Especially since Harry didn't really know the entire plan, and would surely protest against it. But she didn't have any time to waste.

She pretended not to care, trying to imitate this man's demeanor, as she pulled out her purse and paid him 36 Galleons, 5 Knuts, and 7 Sickles. She heard an intake of breath right behind her neck, and figured that Harry was surprised at the cost of just the one item they had agreed on getting. But he stayed quiet.

The man walked back to the Dumpster and opened it up, revealing a long, black, duffel bag stashed inside of it. He tossed the bag over to Hermione, "Nice doing business with you. Now get your pretty little ass out of here, I have an 11 o'clock with another client." He jumped back onto the Dumpster and began reading his newspaper once more. Hermione didn't bother saying goodbye, just stepped back and briskly walked back out of town. As soon as she got past the town borders, she was sprinting, not caring if Harry was even keeping pace with her. She had to reach the Apparation point before he got there, but of course she should have known he wouldn't let her get away so quickly.

Hermione was running, running, running, until she tripped on what she thought was a root. But it was actually Harry's leg, which he had pulled out to make her slow down. She had dropped the duffel bag on her way down, and he quickly grabbed it and pulled it away from her, discarding his invisibility cloak in the progress. Hermione scrambled to get her wand, to stun him so that she wouldn't have to explain its contents, but she was too late.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry had his wand pointed squarely at her chest, and he caught her before she fell, laying her down softly onto the grass, "Sorry, Hermione. But I just need to take a moment and look at the mysterious contents of this too-heavy bag. I thought we had agreed on just a broom, eh?" He ran his hand through his hair and unzipped the black bag.

The first object he found inside wasn't a surprise to him, it was actually the reason he had agreed to come with Hermione in the first place. A broom. A brand-new, top of the line, broomstick. A Firebolt, to be exact. Hermione lay, frozen, on the grass, screaming bloody murder on the inside. She had asked Harry to come with her to buy a broom, that was the original plan. They had written a letter to one of Dung's black market friends, since they couldn't exactly stroll into a shop and ask for a broomstick. He had agreed to meet them the next morning with their order, and Hermione couldn't resist tacking on an extra paragraph to the letter after Harry had gone to bed.

She asked for 7 bottles of firewhiskey, something Harry would never have approved of. But she needed the liquor to soothe herself, to make her brave for what was to come. The first part of her plan was to become a good Quidditch player (or at least make herself somewhat comfortable on a broom) to impress Fred and make him notice her at least a little bit. The second part of her plan was a tad bit less kosher. She was going to get drunk, shnockered, toasted, out of her mind plastered so that she could finally be brave enough to tell Fred how she felt. An intoxicated Hermione could do anything, because logic didn't exist in an inebriated mind. Without logic, Hermione could admit to something she'd never admit sober. She'd never admit love…but with the firewhiskey, her deepest hopes would escape her mind and out through her mouth. She could already imagine herself talking to Fred, telling him, _I love you, Fred. Fred, I love you._

All the while, Harry was opening up the duffel bag, laying the broomstick onto the grass and delving deeper into the contents of the package. And then he froze, his breathing stopped and his fingers grasped onto the first bottle of firewhiskey. His voice turned cold and poisonous, "Hermione, what is this?" He turned to face her with eyes like ice and a face of stone. For the first time in her life, Hermione was afraid of him. He took out his wand and un-bound her, but she still couldn't move.

"Harry," she whispered, closing her eyes and still lying on the grass, "Harry, I'm sorry. But I have to, I need it. I'm not brave enough to do it on my own." Tears slid down her cheeks and onto the grass, leaving streaks on her flawless face.

"I don't like where this is going, 'Mione. I thought this would be a laugh…teach you how to fly, maybe teach you a few tricks, give Fred a little show…but this is taking it too far. He cares about you, how do you think he'd feel seeing you drunk? You'd turn into every other stupid girl out there. You wouldn't be _you,_ Hermione," he looked disgusted as he threw the bottle back into the bag, "But it's your choice. I'm not going to stop you, because you're too stubborn and it'll only hurt you more if I try and change anything. And besides," he choked out a dark laugh, "Maybe things will get a bit more interesting with this thrown in."

He lay down beside her and took her hand in his, and she again thought to herself how lucky she had gotten to have a friend like him. She squeezed his hand and turned to face him, "Thank you, Harry. I love you, you know," she smiled.

"I love you, too, silly girl. Silly, brilliant, amazing girl," he smiled back at her and then barked out another laugh, "Hah! I just remembered something!"

"What?" Hermione frowned, wondering what could have possibly changed Harry's mood so fast.

"You haven't told Ron any of this yet. This is about to get _hilarious,_" he continued laughing as Hermione blanched, realizing that the worst was yet to come.


	4. Of Preparations and Long Talks

Of Preparations and Long Talks

"How do I look?" Fred turned away from the mirror to face his twin, expecting a snarky remark that he would have ignored anyway. But George surprised him by walking up and fixing his tie for him.

"You look good, brother," George said quietly, Fred could tell that he was holding back from saying something negative.

"What is it George? Might as well get it out of the way now," Fred turned back to the mirror, running his hands through his hair to get his signature tousled look. He was wearing a black dress shirt and a red tie, paired with his nicest jeans and black dress shoes. Why his mother wanted "fancy dinner family night" he would never understand. George matched him almost exactly, though George was wearing a white tie instead of red.

"I don't think you should do this now. Tell her after they get back from the mission…dangerous times lay ahead," George stepped next to Fred to look at himself in the mirror as well.

"Ah, but Georgie, that's the point. What if I never get another chance like this? What if something happens to me? Or worse…to her?" Fred closed his eyes briefly, not letting himself fully imagine life without his love. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face George, who was looking at him with a hard look on his face.

"You're right, Freddie. You really are…but it doesn't help the feeling I've got in my gut. There's a storm brewing," his thick eyebrows furrowed together and he turned away to fix his tie once more, "I only wish I knew when it would strike."

* * *

><p>Hermione knocked on the door once. Then twice. No answer. She knew that Ron was inside, as Harry had told her on his way downstairs that the coast was clear for her to go and talk to him. Harry had been looking quite dapper when he had walked into Hermione's room, with his jeans actually ironed and his white dress shirt tucked in. She had to tie his simple black tie for him, because, as all boys, he had no clue how to do it himself.<p>

"I talked him for you," he had said, looking down at her as she pulled the tie into a loop, "He's not happy, 'Mione. But I think he'll be alright…I have a feeling he already knew most of it," he pecked her on the cheek and went across the hall to pick up Ginny to go to dinner. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing out her dress and taking deep breaths. She could barely believe herself, what she was about to do and how she was going to do it. She had tried to dress herself up as if she wasn't Hermione, but instead was some villainous vixen who could just as quickly seduce a man as she could kill him.

Her silk dress was dark red, extremely tight, and short, stopping at her mid-thigh. The one shoulder strap that held the dress on her was embellished with silk roses, and the back was sheer red fabric in the shape of an upside down triangle. She had never felt more unlike herself, but she felt confident and secure, which was exactly what she needed. Hermione twisted her hair up into a messy bun and threw on a pair of black, platform pumps and headed upstairs without a backwards glance. Before this fancy dinner, she had to apologize to her best friend.

And so she knocked twice on his door before letting herself in. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, shoe-less and with his black, silk tie slung around his neck. She sat down next to him without a word, only putting a hand on his knee.

His breathing became shaky, and he still didn't look at her. She saw his hands clench into his red hair and it felt like he was squeezing her heart.

"Ron," she whispered and pulled on one of his hands, making him look at her, "Ron, I'm so sorry. I love you, you should know that."

His blue eyes bore into her, pain and disbelief clearly written on his freckled face, "How could you say that when you obviously love him best? My own brother?" he shook his head, "I'm so blind. But then again, I don't blame you. He's everything I'm not, right? Funny, and smart, and talented, and strong…the good looking one," and now his voice shook, too.

She held his gaze because she wanted him to believe her, "This is why I don't believe in 'love', Ronald. Because if love existed…how would it be possible for me to love two men at once? You're amazing, and I…I do care about you more than anything," she grasped his hand in both of hers. "If Fred magically disappeared off the face of this earth, I would have been yours from day one. And I was yours…until I really met him."

"So all I have to do is kill him, then," Ron smirked, putting his other hand onto the bundle of their clasped ones. They sat there like that for a moment, treasuring each other's warmth and comfort.

Ron sucked in a deep breath, "It's alright, Hermione… I just want you to understand that I'm always going to love you. Forever. I hope you don't get annoyed by that…because there's no way in hell I'm leaving."

She nodded quickly, swallowing the lump that was lodging itself in her throat. There were so many things she wanted to tell him: that he _was _strong, that he _was_ good looking, that he _was_ funny…and above all, that he was brave. But the words weren't coming to her. She wanted to hug him, and kiss every freckle that covered his body, but he was so familiar. She guessed that that was why she loved Fred so much more…he was different, exciting. He wouldn't let her boss him around, he could manage her wit and dish it right back.

"I know you love me," Ron whispered, looking out the window. His bottom lip trembled, and Hermione wanted to lean over and kiss it, just to make his pain go away. "But I also know that we'll be together one day, because Fred isn't right for you. He's exciting, I get that…but he's not me," he stared into her eyes again, this time solid and determined.

Courage welled up inside of Hermione, probably from the adrenaline of what was to come and from Ron's words. She forgot herself in that moment, and gave him a long kiss on the lips, not realizing what exactly she was doing until he lightly pushed her off.

"Hermione…" Ron shook his head, eyes closed tight, "I think you should go. I'll meet you downstairs, yeah?" he gave her a small smile to let her know that he wasn't angry. But Hermione was angry with herself, for losing control like that, for hurting him even more.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, getting up and walking to the door, "I'm so sorry, Ron."

"It's fine, really," he smiled even wider, "I just got kissed by the most beautiful witch that's ever lived. I mean, Merlin's beard, 'Mione, have you seen yourself in the mirror?"

She laughed as she blushed, waving at him, "I'll see you downstairs, you numpty. And fix your tie properly this time, I don't want a repeat of that time we all went to the Hog's Head and you nearly hung yourself."

**_Author's Note:  
>Thank you all so much for reading and adding me :D<br>your reviews really push me to continue writing!  
>I promise you that the next couple of chapters will bring what you've been waiting for, not to mention actual adventures that the gang gets up to.<br>thanks for everything. _**


	5. Of Family Dinners and Midnight Quidditch

Of Family Dinners and Midnight Quidditch

Fred was watching his mother bustle around the dinner table, arranging plates and pulling in extra chairs. He, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and George were already seated, waiting for the rest of the family to arrive. His father was out in the shed doing some last minute research for the Ministry, and Harry and Ginny were standing quietly outside watching the stars. He watched them through the window as they held hands, Ginny's head gently resting on Harry's shoulder. And Fred's heart ached.

He wanted that. He wanted to be able to do the simple things, like hold Hermione's hand and hug her whenever he wanted. He wanted to be able to stroke her hair and be there to comfort her when she needed it. Fred felt George's hand on his shoulder, knowing that his twin knew exactly what he was thinking. He shook himself, and turned his attention back to the conversation that the rest of the table was having.

"Bill, I can't believe you wouldn't let me arrange your stag do, I mean really!" Charlie was saying, "I know some veela girls from back in the day, we all could have had a great time!" He smiled widely, the scar on his chin shining under the flourscent kitchen lights. He teased Fleur with these sort of jokes constantly, which made Bill feel uncomfortable, but which Fleur found immensely funny.

"Yes, really, Bill," Fleur purred, "I 'ave some couzeens who would 'ave loved to meet anozer Weasely!" She giggled as Bill blushed bright red and mumbled something under his breath. But Fred couldn't concentrate; all he could think about was how many couples had suddenly appeared in his house. He wasn't paying any attention at all, and so he didn't notice as Hermione stepped into the kitchen.

"Mind if I sit here?" he heard a voice whisper in his ear. He felt chills go down his spine, his nerves suddenly burst into flames, and he could feel the heat creep up his neck. Without turning around, he nodded, tongue-tied once more. Fred, panicking, looked at George, who was open-mouthed in shock. Surprised, Fred looked beside him and almost melted from the heat that he was suddenly emitting.

Hermione wasn't just Hermione anymore. He never thought she could be more beautiful than she looked every day, but obviously he had been wrong. As she turned to look at him, he saw her lashes flutter as if they were feathers, her lips redder and fuller than he had ever seen. He wanted to kiss them more than he ever had before. She had her hair in a messy bun, with one strand escaping her hair tie. It fell to her collarbone, and he wanted to smooth it away, to kiss her skin, to push the hair behind her ear.

Her dress clung to her body, accentuating her form in just the right way. And the sheer back…Merlin's beard, he could barely breathe. He decided to look away before his body gave him away. But her image still burned in the forefront of his mind. Thankfully, his mother had called the evening to order, raising her glass in a toast.

"I'm so thankful to have everyone here," she started tearfully, "My entire family. Harry and Hermione, dears, you count as family, you always have. I know that we all have terrible days ahead of us, but first we have a wedding to celebrate, and summer evenings to spend together. I love you all so very much," tears were starting to stream down her weathered cheeks, but she still managed a smile, "To Bill and Fleur, and to Harry! To us!"

"To us," Fred breathed and raised his glass, but he wasn't toasting Bill or Fleur or Harry…he was toasting to his future. To himself and Hermione.

* * *

><p>Now was her chance, and she would be beat if she missed it. As Fred stood up to clear away his plate, Hermione tugged on his shirt sleeve and motioned him to sit back down. He sat down, a bewildered look on his face, and his eyes were glazed over for some reason. She leaned in close, and whispered, "Midnight Quidditch tonight. You want in?"<p>

She tried to focus, but it was hard, smelling the peppermint on his skin and feeling his warm breath so close to her ear. She concentrated on being appealing, the wily vixen she was pretending to be that night.

She could feel Fred freeze for a second, and so she froze as well, doubting herself. Was he going to go for the bait? Was she not good enough even now?  
>"Are you playing?" he whispered back, smirking as he looked into her eyes. Her breathing sped up, the tension that was building up in her body was about to make her explode.<p>

"Of course I'm playing, so be there or be square," she said, getting up and clearing her plate before she said or did something stupid. Hermione didn't look back at Fred, but could feel his eyes boring into her back. She only hoped that he wasn't judging her too harshly.

Back in her room, Hermione counted down the minutes until she could sneak out of the house and into the special clearing in the woods where the Weasley kids and Harry used to play midnight Quidditch. She had never attended one of these matches, but had heard a lot about them. Played in the dark with only a few floating lanterns for light, the Weasley's traditional midnight Quidditch was a popular past-time during the summers. She was quite surprised that Molly and Arthur Weasley didn't know about these matches, as the entire household usually snuck out in the middle of the night to attend them.

She slipped out of her sexy dress and hung it up in her closet, hoping that she'd never have to wear it again. If it had done its job correctly, then she wouldn't need it. Hermione dug through her dresser and found a set of black, lacey, undergarments (the only pair she had) and changed into them. Since she wasn't wearing the dress anymore, she still needed a reminder that she wasn't being herself tonight. On top, she pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a sweatshirt, not bothering to put a shirt on underneath. It was going to be cold tonight.

12:00 am. Finally.

Hermione ignored her speeding heart as she quietly stepped out of bed and grabbed her new Firebolt. She slung a small bag over her shoulder, taking a long swig of firewhiskey as she did so. She screwed the top back onto the bottle and shoved it into the bag of essentials…and tonight, the liquor was definitely an essential.

Quietly, she opened up her window and pushed herself onto the ledge, holding onto her Firebolt for dear life. She positioned it between her legs, and braced herself against the outside wall for support. _One, two, three_…and she jumped off the ledge, pushing off with her feet, and tilting her broomstick towards the sky so that no sound would come from her room.

She had practiced this maneuver with Harry, but she still felt the thrill and the fear as she felt herself shoot up higher and higher into the air. The weightlessness gave her full abandon, and the fire whiskey still burned in her veins. As she neared the forest, she shouted out a big, giddy "Whoop!" and was greeted with other war cries and cat calls. Everyone was already in the clearing, waiting for her. She landed softly, with a huge grin on her face, and stepped closer to Fred who was laughing to himself.

"Well, Granger," he shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe you actually came. Since when are you a fan of being on a broom?" He cocked his head to the side, giving her a half smile. She bit her lip, resisting the urge to throw herself at him; he was looking so amazing in just a black V-neck and his blue jeans.

"Since I dated a Quidditch player, Weasley," she shot back at him, "I like boys who ride brooms. It makes it easier for them when they have to ride a little something else…"

As the words left her mouth, she could have slapped herself. These were things she would say to herself, but not even to Harry or Ron, let alone the man who had held her heart for so long. She was coming off as a slag, and she blamed the firewhiskey for loosening her tongue…now she was starting to understand why Harry had gotten so angry with her.

But she could almost forgive herself when she saw the way Fred blanched and gulped hard. He ran his fingers through his hair, flustered, and Hermione smiled to herself. She had actually made Fred blush!

"See you in the air, Weasley," she bantered, and hopped back on her broom and flew up to meet Harry, who was circling the clearing impatiently. She didn't look back, she didn't want to risk seeing Fred judging her and maybe even walking away from her. He had to go for the bait…he _had_ to.

"Alright, 'Mione?" a restless Harry nodded towards her, circling around her.

"Yeah, Harry, I'm fine," she rolled her eyes, "I just want to get the game started. Let's do this." She grinned, teeth glinting in the moonlight. She had never felt so free, so elated. Up in the air, nothing mattered; she was invincible, because logic had no place up in the stars.

"LET'S DO THIS!" she punched his fist in the air, looking around and up and down at everyone who was positioned in the clearing. Her exclamation was met with cheers and whoops and a certain wolf whistle, which she was sure came from Ron's direction. She smirked at him, and received a wink in return. Surely this night was a figment on her imagination, this sort of jittery euphoria couldn't possibly be real.

Ron, and George flew up to join her, making a little huddle around Harry, ready for instructions. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and Ginny were in a huddle themselves, making articulate hand gestures and chanting their motto. Fleur stayed in the middle of the two groups, looking uncomfortable on her broom and waiting for an appropriate moment to descend back to the ground. She was a referee for about the first two seconds as the captains approached each other.

"Alright, 'Arry…Geeny…I vant a fair game, you know vhat zat meens," she looked Ginny in the eyes, "No hexing your boyfriend," and then she turned to Harry, "Or my fiancée. Understood?" Both Harry and Ginny nodded, smiling, gripping their broom handles in anticipation.

Hermione was breathing hard, trying to remember the rules of the game and the plays that Harry had taught her in the past couple of days. _Damn the firewhiskey,_ she thought to herself, _I can't remember anything._ Her throat felt dry and her palms were sweaty, but she tried to look confident. Fred was staring at her, she could feel his teasing eyes and could see his red hair shining in the light. She focused on the calming tones of the forest itself. The muted greens, blues, greys, and the slight yellows coming from the floating lanterns. She immediately felt herself grow calmer and more focused.

The whistle blew, and she dived as a bludger immediately came shooting her way. "To your left!" George came flying out of nowhere, hitting the bludger with all his might at his twin, chuckling, "Alright, love?"

"Never better, Georgie!" she grinned widely, the adrenaline fully kicking in, not remembering a time she had smiled so much in one sitting, "Kicking your twins' ass at Quidditch…who would have thought?"

She zipped forward, weaving in and out of the fray, mostly keeping to herself and just trying to confuse the other players. She caught Fleur smiling at her, and she waved her a thumb's up. _The bookworm on a broom, _Hermione thought, if_ I can fly, then surely pigs can, too._

**_Author's Note:  
>Review review review!<br>the more reviews, the fast i'll update hehe :D  
>love you all~ <em>**


	6. Of Bonfires and the Moon

_**Author's Note:  
>(CAUTION- THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A BIT OF LANGUAGE AND OTHER...BITS. not too much, but just keep it in mind, please.)<br>The moment everyone has been waiting for is here!  
>But how will Fred and Hermione react to each other? Only time will tell :)<br>Keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing! Thank you to everyone for the support!  
>Enjoy~ <strong>_

Of Bonfires and the Moon

They were all sitting in the clearing, watching as the flames of their bonfire shot towards the sky. Ginny was cuddled in Harry's arms; they were joking around together and being adorable as always. Fred felt the pang of jealousy shoot through his body again, wishing that he could have Hermione like that. But tonight was about insanity, doing something that each one of them had never done before.

Bill and Fleur were slow dancing to no music, barefoot in the soft grass. Her hair shone in the darkness, leaving behind trails of moonbeams, and Bill's face was soft as he looked at her. His long scar shone as brightly as her hair, and Fred began to believe in fate, in perfect matches. Fred wished them all the best in their future lives. Charlie was playing with the fire, as always, and was tempting it to go higher and higher until it roared in protest, as high as the trees. Ron sat with George and Hermione, who were painting ancient runes on themselves and drinking firewhiskey. All he could look at was Hermione: her ivory skin, her kind eyes, her untamable hair, almost as unpredictable as herself. Fred still couldn't believe that she had forced herself onto a broom and hadn't fallen or been scared the entire night. He was proud and happy and now was the time. Now or never to do what he set out to do.

He stood up, brushing himself off, and cockily strode over to the trio, "Excuse me, Weasleys, but would you mind if I grabbed Ms. Granger for just one moment?" He cocked his head to the side, grinning at his brothers, but only looking at Hermione and her reaction. She seemed surprised, but quickly nodded at the other two.

"It was fun, boys, but it's time that others got the chance to have an audience with the princess," she laughed and stood up. Ron and George cracked up, obviously having drunk too much of the liquor already. Fred stooped down to grab two shot glasses and a bottle of the drink, "And I'll be taking this, if you don't mind. You two don't need any more, I don't think."

He turned around to face Hermione, but found that she was already walking away, not towards the center of the clearing, where the bonfire was, but towards the edge of the forest. She looked over her shoulder, back at him, and motioned her head towards the trees. His heart went into overdrive, this was better than he could have possibly imagined: she was taking them away from the crowd, where they could talk in peace!

He walked quicker to her, wanting to start the conversation now, but Hermione looked as though she had other plans. Fred watched as she stepped out of her shoes and shot into the forest, wand in one hand and a bottle of firewhiskey in the other. She let out a bark of laughter, and Fred couldn't help but smile. He should've known that it was too easy…it was Hermione he was thinking about. Nothing about her was easy, which is sort of what he liked best about her.

He, in turn, took off his shoes and ran after her, plunging into the forest and consequentially, into the darkness. He saw a flicker of ivory a few feet ahead of him and realized that Hermione was waiting for him to find her. He sprinted up to her and took her hand, which she didn't object to. He was touching her hand after wanting to do so for so long, he could feel his body start to warm up, as it usually did when he was around her. But for some odd reason, he was calm, not tongue tied or nervous. He was steady, and so was she.

"C'mon, Fred, run with me," she whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. She smelled of firewhiskey and new parchment, and Fred couldn't help but wonder how much she had been drinking that night. But he didn't have much time to ponder, as Hermione took off once again, running to a place only she knew.

"Hermione! Hermione, wait!" Fred ran and ran and ran, only just managing to keep up with her, "Hermione, where are we going!"

"You'll see, Freddie," she gasped, pushing herself faster, "We're chasing the moon!" She let out a carefree laugh and Fred believed it to be the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. They ran farther than Fred had ever run. He'd never been in this part of the forest before, where the colors were deeper and the trees less spread out. It was also damper and the air more moist than it had been in the woods closer to the house. He began to get extremely tired, breathing harder and harder after each step. He began to wish he had brought his broom with him, and began to wonder if Hermione had gone mad or what. She'd never been like this before.

He slowed down to a stop, but she didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care, because she kept sprinting forward, the forest floor now rising in an incline. He decided to walk after her, knowing that he'd find her eventually. He needed time to think. He wasn't sure if he liked this new, fearless, slightly crazy Hermione. No, that was a lie, he loved this new Hermione, but he also wondered where the other one had gone. The real Hermione wouldn't drink firewhiskey, especially not to this point of chaos. The real Hermione wouldn't run into the woods without shoes on, the real Hermione would tell him exactly where they were going and why. Mysterious, strong, insane Hermione…she scared Fred quite a lot.

But Hermione is Hermione, Fred thought to himself, and Hermione always has an explanation. He reached the top of the incline and gasped, the view taking his breath away. He was standing atop a grassy hill, which went on for a long while, gently sloping down and ending at a small lake. Across the lake, the forest continued, but the trees were sparser and less in between. He could see long grasses waving on the other side, and the green grass underneath his own feet had an incredibly soft quality.

Hermione was lying on the grass about halfway down the hill, arms and legs stretched spread-eagle, her chest rising and falling as she tried to regain her breath. She still had both the firewhiskey and her wand in both hands. He watched as she sent silver sparks in the air and made them float above her head like little lightning bugs. She took a long swig from the bottle and was still, watching the sky. He walked over to her and sat gently at her side, waiting for her to speak first.

After a moment, she whispered, "I used to come here every time you all played Quidditch without me." Another swig from the bottle, and Fred was sorely tempted to take it away from her.

"Hermione, would you stop drinking, please? At least for a bit?" He touched her hand as softly as possible, and when she didn't move her hand, he grasped it firmer. She sighed and passed the bottle over to him.

"Then take it so I'm not tempted," she closed her eyes, "Temptation is not my friend tonight."

Fred's heart went into over drive as he lay down beside her and put his arm beneath her head so that she could lean against him. When she snuggled in close, he was sure he was dreaming. Hermione Granger was lying in his arms, under the stars, talking about temptation. Definitely a dream…and the best one he'd ever had, at that.

"I can hear your heart," she smiled, still with her eyes closed, "Are you alright? Did the run wear you out?"

"Yeah, it was the run," Fred lied. Without meaning to, he grasped the infamous firewhiskey bottle and drank two gulps, which singed his throat. But he didn't care, because if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. "Dance with me, Hermione."

Her eyes shot open and she immediately stood up, "I don't know how to dance." But she moved closer to him anyway.

Fred smiled as he stood and put his left hand on her waist, taking her left hand in his right, "Just follow my lead, muggleborn." He stepped closer to her, so that their bodies were touching, but she didn't flinch away like he had expected. Instead, she laid her head on his chest and swayed to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Why don't you believe in love, Hermione?" he whispered hoarsely in her ear. She stayed quiet for a while, until he suspected she wouldn't answer, but then she stopped moving and looked up at him.

"Love can't exist. If love existed, there wouldn't be divorce, and people wouldn't have to die alone," tears started forming in her perfect eyes, and Fred wanted to chase her fears away, "Why would anyone settle for anything less than true love? And isn't true love deserved by everyone? I just…" she stepped away from him and sat back down.

"What? You can tell me anything," Fred sat down next to her and she leaned into him again, throwing all her caution into the wind.

"Because I love you, Fred. And If love existed, and it was fair, the way it's supposed to be…like in all of those fairytales…you'd love me, too," she ended up mumbling the last part into his shoulder, but Fred's heart stopped.

Complete silence, he couldn't move, couldn't function.  
>Hermione Granger, the girl he had loved since he'd met her, the girl who he'd thought about every night before he went to bed, the girl who could have had any boy in the world…chose him? A nobody? And, being the utter dolt that he was, instead of kissing her right then and there, he said, "I thought you loved Ron."<p>

He could have Avada Kedavra'd himself.

"I knew it," she whispered, moving away from him and wiping away the tears that were now running down her cheeks, "You don't like me. That's alright, that's totally understandable. I'm a foolish girl to have done all of this," she stood up, grabbing her wand and searching for her liquor bottle. Fred panicked, not knowing how to make her stay, how to make her see that she had just made him euphoric.

"I love you, Hermione," the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. But then, he realized, he didn't want to stop them. This is what he had come here for, to tell her. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that she would have returned the feelings, though. She was frozen as well, looking over at him in awe and confusion.

"You love me?" she looked dumbfounded, "But, I'm a nobody. You're one of the most popular boys at school, you could have anyone…why me?"

Fred couldn't help it, he stared at her and pulled her into his lap. "Hermione," he chuckled, becoming much more sure of himself, "It's amazing how alike our minds are. I thought the same thing of you, you beautiful girl." He grinned, ecstatic, at the love of his life, and found his heart exploding when he saw she was smiling at him as well. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, smelling the pine in her hair.

"Tell me again, Hermione. Love exists. Tell me why it exists," he kissed the top of her head.

"Love exists because I love you, Fred," she said, closing her eyes, more determined and solid than he had ever seen her, "And you love me. That's why love exists."

And he couldn't stand it any longer, he wrapped his hands around her face and pulled her in for the kiss he had been waiting for his entire life. If their other kiss was fireworks, this kiss was a wildfire. He deepened it, sighing into her mouth, thinking that he could stay like this forever.

* * *

><p>He was kissing her. Fred Weasley was kissing <em>her,<em> Hermione Granger, the book-worm with huge hair and buckteeth. And he was kissing her as if his life depended on it. She felt his hands on the small of her back, pressing her against him. But there was still too much space between them. She wanted to be closer, to feel his skin underneath her fingertips.

"Fred," she gasped pulling away for air. She had noticed, but she was actually getting hot from kissing him. She wished she could take off her sweatshirt, but at the last second she remembered that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. So instead, she un-did his jacket, ignoring his stare, and laid it on the ground. She sat down, patting the space next to her, and she saw him smile.

"Hermione," he drawled, putting his lips to her ear, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

Hermione felt the thrill of his low voice shoot down her spine, and she shook, closing her eyes to treasure the feeling, "Shut up and kiss me, Fred."

And she felt his hands grab her hips and she was lifted into his lap again. But it wasn't enough for her, so she pushed him down so that he was lying on the grass and she was straddled on top of him. His eyes shot open in surprise. _Good, _Hermione thought, _he wasn't expecting that. I'm the one who's calling the shots tonight, Weasley._

She could feel his breath speed up and his eyes glazed over, and she couldn't hold back a grin. She still couldn't believe that he was reacting this way towards her, as if she was everything he'd ever wanted. She placed her hands on his broad chest and gave him a peck on the lips, but held back from really kissing him. He groaned and lifted himself up on his elbows to grab her face and pull her towards him. But at the last second, she rolled off of him and stood up.

"Hermione!" he grumbled and dropped himself back onto the grass, running his hands through his hair, "You can't just do that! There are things that have been set in motion, and it's not like-"

She started laughing, and suddenly, she couldn't stop. Tears were forming under her eyelids and her stomach started to hurt. The firewhiskey was obviously still in her system. She had never laughed so hard in her entire life.

"What's so funny?" Fred was sitting up now, an amused look on his beautiful, freckled face. Hermione felt so carefree, she felt invincible, she felt as though she could rule the world at that one moment. She grabbed the almost-empty liquor bottle and the two shot glasses that Fred had brought with them and threw herself into his arms.

"_You're_ funny, Freddie," she grinned and kissed his neck. She could feel how hot his skin was, and she could tell that her skin was burning as well. Was this the sign of true attraction? She pushed away the complex thoughts for another time. Tonight, she wasn't Hermione, tonight she was just 'Mione, a teenage girl with nothing to lose.

She poured each of them a shot while Fred wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. His hands strayed under her sweatshirt and froze, realizing that there was only her bare skin underneath. His body tightened behind her and she heard a gasped, "Shit."

She turned and smiled sweetly at him, as if she had no idea what he was talking about, "What is it, Freddie?"

"Hermione," he growled, crushing his lips on to hers passionately. His hands rubbed the small of her back, and she loved the feeling of his rough hands against her smooth skin. But she broke away after just a moment, starting to feel like they were going too far too fast. She needed another drink. She passed him one of the shot glasses, full to the rim.

"We are going to do something insane tonight, alright? Something that no one would expect of the two of us," she whispered intently, gazing into his eyes. She wanted to count the freckles that covered his body, memorize the curves of his form, wanted to feel the goose bumps that she saw were covering his skin…but that was all for another time. He gulped and nodded, shaking for some reason.

"Good. Then I make a toast for us…a la folle!" she exclaimed, raising her own shot glass, "To insanity!" She tossed the shot back and stood up, ripping off her sweatshirt and sliding off her jeans. "You coming, Weasley?" she asked into his gaping face. She giggled, loving that she could have this effect on him. She folded her clothes into a neat pile and set it next to him, not bothering to wait for his response. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, tasting the liquor on his breath, and turned to face the lake on the other side of the meadow.

She ran hard and fast, trying not to imagine how freezing the water would be.


	7. Of the Lake and Warm Laughter

_**Author's Note:  
>CAUTION: THIS CHAPTER IS A BIT RACIER THAN THE LAST FEW. not enough to change the rating, though...we'll get to that later ;)<br>Thank you all for the supportive comments and for the favorites, it means the world to me.  
>This installment got submitted quicker thanks to the reviews, so keep em coming!<br>Enjoy~ **_

Of the Lake and Warm Laughter

Ignoring the goose bumps that were starting to pop up all over his skin, Fred padded onto the grass and gripped an overhanging tree branch. He pulled himself up using only his arms, which were screaming in protest (he guessed it was time to start training for Quidditch again), but he couldn't help wanting to show off. He swung himself onto the topmost branch and surveyed the lake that stretched out under him. The surrounding area was beautiful, but there was only one thing he was looking at. Her.

Under the full moon, her skin shone and her wet hair trailed behind her as she swam closer to him. Her smile lit up the night and her doe eyes stared hungrily at his semi-bare body (or maybe it was just wishful thinking). It took all of his concentration to break away from those eyes and focus on what he was doing.

"Watch out below!" Fred bellowed, and jumped off of the tree, hoping that the lake would be deep enough. He aimed at Hermione, wanting to splash her, but she was much too fast for him. She dived under the water just as he plunged into the surface. He came up for air, spluttering and laughing, looking for her, ready to face her pout. But she was nowhere to be seen.

"Hermione?" he questioned and barely had time to gulp in air as he was pulled down to the depths of the lake. He felt a small hand grasping at his ankle and he lightly struggled against it, thinking that Hermione wouldn't be able to hold on. But once again, he was wrong about her and her strength. Instead he dived down and caught her waist, tickling her and making her let go of him. She giggled and let out air bubbles, looking like a mermaid as her hair floating around her like a bronze halo. Fred couldn't stop staring…he still couldn't believe he had her as his own.

She laughed again and pushed herself to the surface, her long, ivory legs sliding through the water. Fred was distracted by a glimmer from the bottom of the lake, and dove down a bit deeper into the riverweeds. A clam was resting on a moss-covered rock, opened and with a black pearl sitting in its open mouth. He quickly pinched it off of the clam and swam upwards, close to losing every amount of oxygen he had left in his lungs.

"Fred!" Hermione swam closer to him, "I thought you drowned or something, I was just about to go back down for you."

He shook his head, gulping in deep breaths of air and concentrating on what he had to say next.

"I love you," he finally whispered, looking into her almond colored eyes and seeing her brilliant smile.

"I love you, too," she replied, and Fred swore that her voice was the most beautiful he had ever heard. He took her hand and they swam to the shore, not too far away. They dropped onto the grass, shivering but happy, and Fred got out his wand to dry them out.

After he had done so, he laid down next to his (yes, she was finally his) Hermione and drew her into his arms. Their bodies burned next to one another's and he was surprised that the entire forest hadn't caught on fire. He was still confused as to why both of them had this reaction to each other, but was distracted as Hermione shifted her body closer to his and started talking. They looked out at the vast expanse of darkness, there was no knowing where the lake ended and where the sky started. It was all black, punctured only by the sparkling white of the full moon reflected onto the lake and the glimmer of the stars above them.

She was babbling again, about the stars and the moon and the opportunities that space held for all of them. Her eyes lit up when she talked, pointing up at her favorite constellations, her smile brighter than anything he'd ever seen before. He thought that there could never be anything lovelier, more magical, than Hermione when she lost herself in something. She sat up and pointed at the constellation right above them, pulling Fred up with her.

"And that one right there? You see it? That one is Aeries, my favorite," she cast him a jaunty look and smirked, unabashed. It took Fred a second to snap out of his reverie, to realize what she had been saying.

"You know I'm an Aeries, right?" he smiled down at her as she pressed her lips together to hold back a grin.

"Of course I know," she rolled her eyes and looked back at the lake and the forest beyond it. She became quieter, sadder, the light going out of her eyes, and Fred had a feeling she was thinking of a red-headed Pisces who was still waiting for her in the clearing.

"What about Ron, 'Mione?" Fred took one of her hands in his, rubbing his thumb across her smooth skin, "I know you care about him, but I'm not big on sharing."

Hermione's eyes closed and she sighed, nodding her head, "I've already talked to him. You have nothing to worry about."

And that was that.

She lay down on the grass again, keeping her hand in his and stretching out. Fred followed suit, pulling her closer to him and sighing, thinking about his brother. But then he was distracted once more as his eyes lingered on her brilliant, ivory form.

Her long legs that became her curvy hips and her smooth stomach. She sighed and he watched as her chest rose and fell, straining against her black, lacy bra. He almost groaned, wondering if she had done this just to torture him. Her collarbone…finally, he realized, he could kiss it. And he did so, treasuring the taste of her skin.

He could feel her heart speed up and her breath hitched. He smiled into her skin, confident in himself. He _was _Fred Weasley, after all. He thought himself experienced enough in this department that he needn't worry too much about it. And so he took his time.

His lips traced her neck, her cheek, her earlobe. His hands ran up and down her body lightly, delighting in the fact that he could do so after waiting for so long. She was shaking against him, and he hoped that it wasn't from the cold.

"Fred," she gasped in his ear as he continued kissing her neck, "Fred, not all the way tonight, okay?"

"Mmm," he smiled again and moved his lips closer to her ear, "I promise. I'm going to make you ask for it, Granger, you're not gonna get it that easy." He lightly bit her ear, then her neck, and his hands held her hips in place.

He looked into her eyes cheekily and grinned as Hermione frowned at him.

"Why, that's not gentlemanly at all," she pouted, but swung one of her legs over his. She started trailing her own hand across his stomach and chest, and Fred felt a lump form in his throat and his heart sped up. She kissed his Adam's apple long and hard and he could feel other parts of his body turn the same.

He closed his eyes for a second, controlling himself, before he replied, "Who said I was a gentleman?" But it didn't come out as confident as he would have liked. His answer was choked, a bit breathy, and it gave away way too much about how he was feeling.

When Fred opened his eyes again, he saw Hermione giving him a mysterious smile as she bit her lip. _Merlin's bear, Hermione, what do you think you're doing? _He thought to himself. Surely this girl didn't understand what was happening inside of him, the fire that burned every nerve throughout his entire body. He couldn't help himself anymore and gave in, kissing her lips and rolling over so that she was lying on top of him.

He was content with just that, kissing her and feeling her, tangible, in his arms. This is what he was working towards for so long; he wasn't going to rush now. He could take his sweet time, and enjoy it, too.

"Not tonight," he whispered in between fevered kisses, "I promise."

They fell asleep holding each other, whispering secrets and laughing like only carefree teenagers could. Her tinkling giggles would stay in Fred's mind long after she had fallen asleep, and long after she left him, a couple of weeks later.

He kissed her temple, thinking she was already asleep, "Good night, 'Mione. Sweet dreams."

Her eyes fluttered open, only slightly, and she mumbled back sleepily, "Good night, Freddie." She smiled lightly and cuddled closer into him, sighing in content. Fred smiled, too, and closed his eyes, wishing this moment would never end.


End file.
